


Brussel Sprouts

by VictoriaSinclair



Series: Phone Calls to Paradise [2]
Category: White Collar
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Post Season 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-04
Updated: 2012-04-04
Packaged: 2017-11-03 00:38:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/375126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VictoriaSinclair/pseuds/VictoriaSinclair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neal calls again. Peter feels clever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brussel Sprouts

The second time Neal calls, Peter is ready.

"Hello?"

"Peter."

"My phone's about to die. Call me back on El's phone. 212-555-7381." Peter says it quickly, in one breath, and hopes to God that it will work. He grabs both phones - his and the small nondescript black one - and leaves the house, trying to look casual, like he's just out for an after dinner walk. He reminds himself to take the dog next time. Should have thought of that. Figures. And just as he's about to give up on his planning abilities in disgust, the little black phone rings.

"Hello?"

"This isn't El's number."

Peter smiles. Of course Neal had El's number memorized. "No, it's not."

"You got a new phone?"

"Ah, sort of. Yes. The bureau doesn't know about this one."

"They don't?" Neal's skepticism is apparent in his voice.

"Well, it's not in my name, and this is the first time I've used it. So I don't see how they would."

"It's not - Peter. You got a phone under a fake name?" 

Peter can't figure out exactly what he's hearing in Neal's voice, and then he realizes that it's _pride._

"I most certainly did not!" he protests, trying to keep from laughing. "Grandma Ruthie got a phone. I'm just holding it for her."

"Grandma Ruthie."

"Yes."

"El's - what was it - her step-grandmother's sister-in-law?"

"Yes. But they've always been very close!" And it's true, as far as it goes. El and her mother had always taken care of the childless widow.

"But she's actually no relation to El."

"No, not technically," Peter admits.

"Peter Burke. I didn't think you had it in you."

"So this - " Peter swallows, tries to sound less eager. "This means that you can call more often. You know. If you want to."

"That was very thoughtful of you, Peter." It's Neal's sincere voice. Peter has to believe that he knows Neal's sincere voice, that it's real, or else there's no point to any of this.

"Well. You know. El worries."

"I know. Tell El - tell El I'll try to call after dinner at least once a week."

"I'm sure El will be happy to hear that."

"What was for dinner?"

"What?"

"I haven't had a home-cooked meal in weeks. Humor me."

"Meatloaf, potatoes, brussel sprouts."

"You hate brussel sprouts."

"You called from your tropical paradise to discuss my feelings about brussel sprouts?"

Neal blithely ignores this. "I love brussel sprouts. Especially El's brussel sprouts. There aren't any good brussel sprouts here." 

"When you - when you get home" - Peter curses his voice for breaking a little on that one - "El will make you all the brussel sprouts you want."

"I'll hold her to that." Suddenly there's background noise at the other end of the line. "Gotta go."

"Neal! Are you okay?"

"Fine, fine. Seriously. Talk to you soon."

The line goes dead, and Peter walks back home, doing his best to convince himself that everything's fine, that Neal just didn't want to talk with other people in the room. By the time he lets himself back into the house, he almost believes it.

El and Satchmo both meet him at the door. "How is he?"

"He misses your brussel sprouts."


End file.
